


Fast Forward Fuchsia Future

by parallelanprincess



Series: How (Not) To Raise A Yandere [8]
Category: Yandere Simulator (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Backstory, F/M, POV First Person, POV Male Character, Stockholm Syndrome, Unhealthy Relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-05 21:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25861780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parallelanprincess/pseuds/parallelanprincess
Summary: The day Ayano Aishi gets accepted into Akademi is the day that everything will change. Her father's having trouble dealing with that.
Relationships: Ayano Aishi | Yandere-Chan's Father/Ryoba Aishi, Ayano Aishi | Yandere-chan & Ayano Aishi | Yandere-chan's Father
Series: How (Not) To Raise A Yandere [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/916842
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome back to Sad Dad Hours. IT's only been...two years? Goddamn. Well, things have certainly happened. And honestly, I might pick this series back up. Wrote this in about two days. So um comment if you like it
> 
> (Seriously who is still reading this?)

I’m not an early riser. I saw no point of waking up at the crack of dawn. Every morning I woke up with Ryoba literally breathing down my neck, her arms wrapped around me possessively. The first time we shared a bed I tried to escape through the second-floor bedroom window the moment she fell asleep. Since then Ryoba wasn’t taking any chances of me escaping. Not that there was anywhere I could go. I hadn’t seen my family since the wedding. I couldn’t even couch surf with my coworkers as leaving behind a wife and child would reflect poorly on me. I was as trapped in my marriage as any other man at my age. Today I was making an exception to my sleep schedule because I had no other choice. I hadn’t had many choices since the day I met Ryoba. 

“Ryochi, I have to go to the bathroom,” I said mechanically. Without opening her eyes Ryoba released me. She mumbled my name in her sleep. It was almost cute. Ryoba was as beautiful as she was psychotic. Despite myself I found that I loved her more with each passing year. She was familiar, comfortable. Steadfast and unchanging. I’d learned how to say the right things to stay on her good side. She loved me. She was the only person who ever had. When Ryoba kidnapped me all those years ago no one came to rescue me. No one noticed I was gone. Most days I couldn’t tell me which was more painful.

  
I crept out of the bedroom into the darkened hallway. It was the coldest March on record and the house was as still as a grave. Some mornings I felt like a ghost haunting my own home. The light was on in Ayano’s bedroom. My precious angel was likely too anxious to sleep. Today would decide her future. All of our futures. 

  
The clock in the kitchen told me I had about five minutes before the mailman showed up. Knowing my luck, he was going to be late. I opened the refrigerator to see what I’d be making for breakfast. I didn’t want to make anything too elaborate or time consuming. I wasn’t sure whether I’d be spending the day celebrating or chain smoking. Okayu seemed a safe bet. I could customize it based on how pissed off the mail man was about to make me. I took some rice out of the cabinet and measuring enough for three people it to keep myself busy. The ticking clock seemed to mock me. Did it matter what time the mail came when time had already run out. I rinsed the rice for what felt like an eternity before pouring it into the donabe to soak.   
I glanced at the clock. The mailman had come and gone thirty minutes ago. Now was as good a time as any to meet my destiny.

I walked out the front door and was greeted by the sunrise. The other residents were going about their early morning activities. Old Lady Churu was sitting on her porch smoking a cigarette, Taiki Masuta and his brat were going for their daily jog, and Shoko Basu was getting out of a client’s car. I watched as Shoko blew Masuta a kiss. Masuta nearly fell face first into the pavement. Old Lady Churu rolled her eyes and mumbled something about loose women. Compared to the other people on my street I seemed perfectly normal. A man, his wife, and their teenage daughter. Nothing to see here. Everything is completely fine. 

“Good morning, Aishi-kun! Big day today isn’t it? Don’t look so distraught, old friend! I have no doubts that everything will go as planned,” Taiki bellowed in a voice too loud and too cheerful for that early in the morning. I gave him a thumbs up which was sufficient enough to make him go away. 

I went to the mailbox and took a deep breath. I’d dreaded this day for weeks. March 16th. The day that Akademi High released their entrance exam results. In my mailbox was either an acceptance letter that would seal my fate or a rejection letter that would save me the pain of watching Ayano follow in her mother’s footsteps. 

  
I’d been strongly against Ayano applying for Akademi. As with every other major decision in my child’s life, I was overruled by Ryoba. Despite their declining prestige Akademi was still the best school in the prefecture. The school was within walking distance, Saikou Corp employees got a steep discount on tuition, and the curriculum would guarantee admittance into a top university. Most parents wouldn’t hesitate to pressure their child into the taking the six-hour entrance exam. Most parents didn’t live in fear of their daughter becoming a serial killer before her 18th birthday. Bracing myself for the worst-case scenario I opened the mailbox. In it was the large pink envelope I was dreading. Sure enough, there was a letter from Akademi High addressed to Ayano Aishi. As I turned over the letter in my hands the wax seal of Saikou Corp mocked me. The cycle was going to start all over again and no one was going to do a damn thing about. I half hoped Headmaster Shuyona would reject her application on principle. Maybe the rumors were right and he was leaving all the administrative duties to someone else. Someone who wouldn’t think twice about seeing the name Aishi on an entrance exam.

  
I could throw the letter away. Toss it right in the trash. The trash guys would come by in a few hours. Chuck it in the recycling, say it never came, suggest Ayano attend a different school. North High was still taking applications. St. Lobelia’s wasn’t much farther than Akademi. Hell, I was even willing for Ayano to go to that hellhole of Kunugigaoka if it kept her from repeating the past. 

  
“What the hell am I going to do?” I sighed. Are you there, God? It’s me, the creeping feeling that you don’t actually exist. No matter what I did or said, Ayano was going to that school Ryoba’s mind was made up years ago. The plan was Ayano was to attend Akademi. Ayano would meet a boy. She would fall in love. I’d come home to a boy chained in my basement. My future son on law as probably reading his acceptance letter at that very moment. He had no idea how screwed he was. 

  
I lingered outside and pretended to inspect the front lawn. Anything to avoid going back inside. The grass was slowly dying. The city was getting stricter on water conservation so no more sprinklers on the weekend. I pay thousands of yen in property taxes for dying grass. Whoever said the grass was greener on the other side was on to something.

“Mr. Aishi!”   
Speaking of green things, my daughter’s best friend was running down the street yelling loud enough to wake anyone unfortunate enough to still be in bed. Over the years I’d become accustomed to seeing Midori charging down the street screaming at the top of her lungs. I didn’t think much of it. She probably wanted to show Ayano some new mobile game she downloaded. Midori was waving a piece of paper around like she’d discovered the formula for the philosopher’s stone. 

  
“Mr. Aishi! I got in! I did it!” Midori yelled as she ran through Old Lady Churu’s front lawn. Midori nearly crashed into me as she tripped over a sprinkler head. She fell face first into grass. She took her faceplant in stride, Midori rolled over with the biggest smile I’d ever seen. She held up the crumpled piece of paper with pride as she spread out on my front lawn.

  
“Guess who just got accepted into the best school in the world?” Midori said triumphantly.

  
This really was going to be an interesting three years.


	2. Chapter 2

For the first few years of my life I lived a hungry existence. My parents had three other mouths to feed and I was the runt of the litter. I quickly grew tired of eating whatever rice was leftover after my brothers had their fill. I learned to cook out of sheer necessity. By the age of seven I was discreetly sneaking small amounts of rice from the oversized bag my parents kept in the pantry. I would wait until long after everyone was asleep to make a dinner of microwaved rice and instant miso soup. During junior high I was able to subsist on the meager lunches and dinners provided by the school. Unfortunately, my scholarship to Akademi didn’t cover the meal plan and I was stuck being the Cooking Club’s test subject. At least once a semester I ended up getting food poisoning. 

  
Ironically, I ate better in Ryoba’s basement than I had in my entire life. Once I stopped starving her of the affection she desperately craved, Ryoba was more than happy to feed me. As part of her training to become the perfect spouse Ryoba had extensively studied traditional Japanese cooking. Being fed kitsune udon while strapped to a chair really shouldn’t have been such a fond memory. Of course, the udon was laced with a sedative and the following week was a blur. One of the few compromises in our relationship was that I would handle the cooking and cleaning. Ryoba was a master chef but blacking out in the middle of dinner wasn’t an experience I wanted to repeat.

  
Cooking for my family was something I didn’t expect to enjoy so much. There was nothing like seeing my beloved daughter happy and well fed. I wanted my precious Ayano to grow up healthy with good eating habits. None of that preprocessed, high fructose crap that parents were all to eager to show down their kid’s throats. Only the freshest, organic ingredients would ever grace my child’s plate. For that reason alone, I shopped at Gurin Grocers.

  
Kuchiro Gurin was a pain in the ass. For the last five years I’d been more or less raising his child in exchange for discounts and freebies. While the Gurins had excellent business sense, their parenting skills left much to be desired. Despite having access to the best food in the country, the family seemed to subsist on the same instant meals I relied on as a child. The only reason Midori wasn’t skin and bone was because she tended to visit our home around meal times. Today was no exception as Midori was excitedly talking to Ayano about their mutual acceptance into Akademi High School over breakfast.

  
“I couldn’t have done it without Kuuchan’s help. I must have spent at least a hundred of hours studying. She even hid my phone from me the week before the exam. I thought I was gonna die! I’m so behind on all the latest Twitter drama. And I ended up missing the entire season of Lily Warrior Revolution because Kuuchan always wanted to study whenever it was on,” Midori moaned through a mouth full of okayu. I tried not to wince as grains of fell on my perfectly polished dining room floor. 

  
“You missed nothing of importance. The season was largely disappointing,” Ayano said quietly.

She ate elegantly and slowly compared to the bottomless pit that was Midori. Ryoba was watching the exchange with a radiant smile. Everything was going according to plan after all. I had successfully masked my disappointment. Not all hope was lost. Midori would prove invaluable for keeping an eye on Ayano. They share a homeroom and their class schedules were perfectly identical. The moment Ayano showed the slightest hint of interest in a boy Midori would post it on every social media platform available. The girl couldn’t keep a secret to save her life.

  
“Really? Oh, I bet they changed things from the manga. I hate when they do things like that? What’s the point of adapting it if they aren’t going to stick to the plot? And don’t get me started on the animation. The final confrontation between Haruka and Ryoko was so disappointing. Who fights a katana with a baseball bat?” Midori asked.

  
“It’s not as hard as you think, Midori. The key is knowing how to swing and aim. Sword wielders tend to get overconfident in their abilities. Once you know how to dodge and counter you can fight them off with anything,” Ryoba beamed. Please don’t give Ayano any ideas.

  
“Fighting a sword with a blunt object is foolish. The only proper counter to a blade is a strong blade,” Ayano replied, repeating something that sounded an awful like her grandmother’s teachings. The matriarch of the Aishi clan was making it a point to visit more often now that Ayano was a teenager. I had no doubts she’d be dropping by not long after the semester began. 

  
“Spoken like a true Aishi woman,” Ryoba agreed. 

  
“Or you could use a gun. I don’t see why no one ever uses guns in a sword fight. I mean shooting has to be easier then slicing and dicing, right? Pull the trigger and bang! Why go through all the messy complicated methods for murder when all you need is a bullet?” Midori asked.  
It was at that moment I knew I had no choice but to accept the fact that all the women in my life were utterly terrifying. God help the unlucky bastard who married into this family next. 

  
“Guns are a lot harder to obtain through legal means. You can get a half decent sword with the proper connections. Swords are also arguably less conspicuous as you can argue they are decorative. A sword on the mantle is easier to explain than a shotgun. We’ve discussed this,” Ayano said.

When? When did you and Midori have deep discussions about murder? Well Ayano wasn’t wrong. Ryoba did have a sword mounted over our bed. I told myself it was decorative as the other explanations made it harder to sleep at night. Determined to steer the conversation away from the easiest way to kill people, I decided to change the subject. 

  
“Did the school send you a supplies list? We can go shopping for your uniforms today if you want,” I said. 

  
“They did but um…. well, Mama said we were going to get my things second hand. I didn’t get a scholarship,” Midori said, her eyes downcast.

Kuchiro and Ginjoko were going to have a hell of a time paying for Akademi without a scholarship. Midori must have met the minimum requirements to get accepted in the first place. Without financial assistance or the Saikou Corp discount, Akademi cost about two million yen per year. Japanese private schools were practically an extortion racket. The more money you pay in school fees the more likely your child was to get into a top university. The Gurins were looking at spending at least six million yen over the next three years. If I had to guess Kuchiro was making about eight million yen a year. Then again, he did have a gambling problem he thought no one knew about. Things were going to be tight if he didn’t get his shit together. 

I looked at Midori in her too small clothing. Her shirt was faded from too many turns in the washing machine and the skirt was far too short. Kuchiro obviously wasn’t inclined to spend money on his only child. Midori wasn’t the smartest or most studious child. She certainly didn’t have the pedigree of type of kids Akademi attracted. Midori technically didn’t need to finish high school if she was going to spend her life scanning groceries. All it took was Kuchiro deciding it wasn’t worth the hassle and Midori would be just another high school dropout. As a man, I knew it wasn’t my place to dictate how Kuchiro ran his household. As a father, I felt a pang of sympathy towards her. Not that there was anything I could do about it. I should have been used to helplessness at that point. 

  
A hush had fallen over the dining room. I silently refilled Midori’s tea cup, casting my eyes towards Ryoba to change the subject. Ryoba smiled at me. I breathed a sigh of relief.   
“Midori, do you plan on joining any clubs? I was in the Student Council. the treasurer I oversaw all the club budgets. We had so much fun back then. Why, we really did let them do whatever they wanted. I remember the Dance Club once held an after-school rave in the auditorium. That was the first time I ever saw my darling. He looked so handsome beneath the disco lights,” Ryoba sighed. 

  
I will never forgive whoever decided that was a good idea. One day I’m having the time of my life at an 80s themed dance party, the next day one of my classmates was found hanging in a bathroom stall. The one time I decided not to skip a school event, all hell broke lose over the course of ten weeks. Ryoba told me all about the night during my imprisonment. How she saw me from across the room and fell instantly in love. For the first time she felt whole, her life finally had meaning. Nothing mattered before that moment. Not school, her family, or friends. The mere sight of my face in a dimly let gym was enough to giver Ryoba a reason to live. I awakened something in her, something dark and desperate. We never knew love until we finally met. Perhaps under different circumstances, we could have saved each other. Sadly, it was already too late. Our destinies were intertwined long before we became aware of the forces driving us together. 

  
At least Ryoba was hot. 

  
“The DJ was awful. He kept playing the Thriller album. Everybody kept trying to moonwalk, I ended up spilling coke all over myself. I’m surprised you still wanted me after that,” I said. Midori laughed and quickly tried to cover it up. Ayano let out a small chuckle. That’s right. Laugh at my pain. It’s the only way I can cope. 

“You were so adorable with your face all flushed. You couldn’t decide whether to take your shirt off or keep it on. I was too shy to approach you then. Some days I still can’t believe we ended up together. Life’s been like a dream since that day,” Ryoba said, she had that lovey dovey expression she always wore when thinking about murder. 

I really, really hoped Ayano turned out to be braver than me. Or at least saner than Ryoba. 


End file.
